Fragile Minds
by Seek.the.Stars
Summary: When the BAU's newest edition, Kathleen Davis, is assaulted at a party, how will the team react? How can they comfort her when they barely even know her? Rated M for sexual content, disturbing scenes, and language.
1. The Party

PART ONE: The Party

_"I prefer to characterize rape simply as a form of torture. Like the torturer, the rapist is motivated by the urge to dominate, humiliate, and destroy his victim. Like a torturer, he does so by using the most intimate acts available to humans - sexual ones."_

~ Helen Benedict

SSA Kathleen Davis finished up the last of her paperwork and placed the folder in the "complete" pile. Brushing a loose strand of her long brown hair behind her left ear, she gave a sideways glance at her watch. The time was seven o'clock—an hour before what was sure to be an incredible night. It was a get-together hosted by her old high school friend, Kira Po, to celebrate the ten-year anniversary of their graduating class. Checking her phone, she saw that her ride was there; her twin sister Megan was driving her.

She grabbed her bag and pulled out a change of clothes—a pretty v-neck dress to replace her collared dress shirt and slacks, and elegant dress shoes to swap with her plain black flats. In the restroom she redressed herself and applied more make-up. Checking herself in the mirror, she smiled at her nighttime transformation.

Back in the bullpen she gathered her belongings and prepared to leave. Only two of her teammates were still at the office—Reid, who was completing Morgan's paperwork (as he always was forced to do), and Hotch. The latter stepped outside of his office and caught Kathleen's attention and motioned for her to join him. Upstairs in his office, he told her to have a seat.

"Nothing's wrong," Hotchner assured her. "I just am performing a mandatory questionnaire. I realize you're in a hurry, and I promise it won't take too long."

Kathleen nodded, slightly annoyed about the interruption in her schedule but not willing to show it. "What do I need to tell you?"

He clicked an expensive-looking pen. "How have your first five weeks of working with this team been?"

"Oh, they've been great. Or, fine, rather. I mean, it's not great that people have died, obviously, but overall it's been a very informative and interesting to be officially working in the field."

"And the teammates? Have you gotten along with them?"

Kathleen inwardly giggled at his question. Being her teammate, he should know how she felt about them. Of course, her opinions where the ones that mattered and Hotch was only doing his job.

"They've all been wonderful to work with. Everyone on this team has something to offer, so I guess I'm still trying to find my niche."

Although Hotchner's head was down, Kathleen noticed his eyebrows rise when he heard her last statement. It clearly surprised him that she felt a bit out of place, but Kathleen knew that she'd find her specialty eventually.

Only three questions were left until they were done. Hotchner closed the folder and thanked Kathleen for her cooperation. Saying goodbye to Hotch and Reid, Kathleen finally exited the bullpen and got to her sister's car.

The drive to Kira's house was about half an hour from work, and was overall uneventful. Megan and Kathleen had light conversation on the way there. Since they lived so close to each other, there wasn't much news to share with one another. When they arrived at the party, Kathleen noted that dance music boomed from the house. Dozens of cars were outside, and she saw a bunch of her former classmates entering the house.

Inside Kathleen was greeted by a smiling Kira. Her friend had her hair curled and was wearing a dark green dress with a slit down the leg.

"Kathleen!" Kira pulled her into a hug. "I haven't seen you in forever! Well, I mean, I've seen your Facebook pictures and we've texted, but we haven't met up since college. How have you been? Are you really an FBI agent?"

"Yeah, I've been hired officially," Kathleen replied. "Keep it on the down-low, though. We don't want anyone listening in… You know, security issues."

"Oh absolutely," Kira didn't seem to understand exactly what Kathleen meant, but the agent knew her friend wouldn't start screaming about an FBI agent's presence to the partygoers.

"I'm gonna grab a beer. I'll catch up with you later, okay?" Kathleen waved as she abandoned the host. On her way to the bar, she exchanged "hellos" with many familiar faces. She was struggling to open her bottle when a large hand reached over.

"I'll help you out," a deep voice told her. She glanced up and saw a messy bush of blonde hair, hiding the identity of the mystery man. His head was down as he attempted to pry off the lid with his huge palms. It came off with a satisfying "pop."

"Here you are—whoa, this is a blast from the past."

Their eyes locked, and Kathleen nearly dropped the beer he'd handed back to her. The unkempt blonde hair, the light blue eyes, the wide smile, they all belonged to her high school sweetheart.

"I—Zeke…" she gasped. "How have you been?"

"Well, and yourself?" He rested his arm over her shoulders and steered her into the kitchen so they could talk with less noise. Their conversation consisted of their lives after high school. Zeke had, apparently, become a child psychologist in Boston. He claimed that he was following in his parents' psychology-related careers. As the night dragged on, Kathleen and Zeke continued to drink and talk.

"Y'wanna know a secret?" Kathleen asked.

"Hm?"

"Ever since we were partners in art class in eighth grade, I've had a huge crush on you." She leaned on his shoulder. "When high school ended, I was worried I'd never see you again. That feeling has lasted until tonight."

Zeke stared straight at her, his expression soft. "Let's spend a bit of time alone, just us two. Is that okay with you?"

Kathleen set down her third bottle on the counter and grabbed Zeke's arm, letting him lead her to the front door. They ended up tripping over dancing couples and carelessly dropped bottles.

"Where're we going?" Kathleen slurred. She didn't feel drunk, despite how much alcohol she'd consumed. Rather, she felt her eyelids getting heavier. It felt like someone was adding weights to them, one pound every minute.

"Whoa there," Zeke laughed when Kathleen tripped in the grass. He picked her up, and the last thing she saw before falling asleep was Zeke's face, glowing under the pale moonlight.

Birds were chirping when Kathleen woke up. She opened her eyes to a vivid light shining down upon her. As her pupils adjusted, she noticed that she was lying in a wooded area behind a familiar looking house. Then she remembered—the party.

"Must've gotten crazy last night," Kathleen shook her head, which pounded in protest. She winced at the pain. But that wasn't the only pain she felt. For some odd reason, her legs felt numb and scratchy, like sandpaper had been rubbed against them. She sat up to examine her legs, and was shocked to see that she was bleeding. Dozens of tiny scratches had formed on her calves and thighs, and they stung with an electric intensity. Kathleen was sure that they hadn't existed until the previous night, so where had they come from? It took a minute, but Kathleen also noticed that she was completely naked. Her dress, bra, and underwear had been tossed aside. Panic flooded her thoughts. What had happened to her?

Suddenly, her mind flashed back to the previous night, just after she'd fallen asleep in Zeke's arms.

_Kathleen slowly let her eyelids lift as her senses returned to her. Zeke had brought her just beyond the line of trees and was lying down next to her. He began to caress her cheek with his finger, his breathing heavy and elongated. She tried to turn her face towards him, but found herself unable to move. Zeke then wiggled closer and started to kiss her on the lips. His hands rubbed her shoulders as he climbed on top of her. _

_ "Whah…" Kathleen's mouth felt as if it had been filled with thick glue. She could do nothing but make high-pitched whining noises. Zeke didn't seem to notice, though. Instead, he unzipped his pants and took off his shirt. He then proceeded to remove Kathleen's dress. The FBI agent didn't react—she still was paralyzed. Though her body was still asleep, her mind was waking up. _

_ Without her dress on, the cool air of autumn chilled her bones. Zeke's body warmth helped to shield her against some of the cold, but it didn't feel right to her. The man's hands began to rub down her body, at first gently and seductively and then with unnecessary ferocity. He was almost frantic in his body motions as he continued to kiss and touch her. When his hands reached below her waist, Kathleen started to panic on the inside. She felt something pressing against her nether regions forcefully, and she whimpered in response. Zeke pushed himself inside of her and began to kiss her madly. Kathleen shook violently, both from the cold and Zeke's actions. By the time it was over, her mind was completely numb. Zeke rose up, grabbed his clothes, and stumbled away from her towards the cars parked near the house. Left to herself, Kathleen felt her mind slipping again as she fell into darkness._

She sat shock-still for a while. Had that really happened? No, it couldn't have. It was a strange hallucination brought upon by her foolish drinking the previous night. But when she tried to stand up and noticed the pool of blood where she had been lying, she was forced to believe in what she had seen. With shaking hands she dressed herself and grabbed her clutch. She pulled out her phone to make a call.


	2. The Call

A/N: Thank you to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed chapter 1! I promise that this won't be completely Kathleen-centric. From now on, you'll see a lot more of the team. I just had to use chapter 1 to set up the story. As always feel free to leave constructive criticism or comments on the story so far. Once again, I only own Kathleen, Zeke, Megan, and Kira. So yeah. If I owned Criminal Minds, Prentiss would still be on the show. :) Hope you enjoy part 2! I have school all this week, but I'll try to squeeze in a chapter or two! :)

PART TWO: The Call

"_Now piercèd is her virgin zone;__  
__She feels the foe within it.__  
__She hears a broken amorous groan,__  
__The panting lover's fainting moan,__  
__Just in the happy minute."_

_~John Wilmot_

Aaron Hotchner stretched as he awoke. He was the type of man who had no need for an alarm clock—he woke up precisely when he needed to and slept in when he was able to. He smiled when he realized that it was his day off. That meant that he and Jack could spend some time together. Aaron left the comfort of his bed and headed over to his closet to pick out a t-shirt and jeans for the day. When he was dressed, he made his way down the hall to Jack's room.

Jack was still asleep, his blonde hair messy and pressed against his forehead. Hotchner made a mental note to take Jack for a haircut the next day.

"Hey, buddy," Hotchner shook his son awake. "How would you like to get up and go out for breakfast this morning?"

Jack's chocolate-brown eyes fluttered open as he locked gazes with his father. "Just us, Daddy?"

Hotch grinned and nodded. "Just us."

Exited, Jack threw off his bed sheets to reveal that he was only in his underwear. Hotchner couldn't help but chuckle as he helped his son pick out an outfit. Wearing a _Toy Story_ t-shirt and jeans, Jack ran down the steps to grab his jacket, Hotch not far behind.

"Stay right at the door while I grab my keys," Hotch called to Jack as he headed for the kitchen. His car keys were hanging on a hook next to the stove, as they always were. He also noticed that he'd left his phone on the counter from the night before. Just as his hand reached down to grab it, it began to ring. The caller I.D. told him that it was Agent Davis.

"Hello?" he answered. The other end was silent for a few seconds before he heard Kathleen, though her voice was quiet and he strained to hear her.

"Hotch?" her voice whispered to him.

"What do you need? We don't have work today. Is everything all right?" Hotchner's parental instincts kicked in because of her out-of-character quietness.

"Could you… uh, pick me up?" she rasped. "I'm…"

She trailed off and never finished her sentence. Hotchner glanced worriedly at Jack, who was leaned against the front door, chewing on his thumbnail.

"I have Jack with me," Hotch told her. "Where are you?"

Kathleen gave him the address, and didn't say much after that.

Finally Hotch decided to ask, "Are you okay?"

"I… I don't know…" Kathleen seemed distant. Hotch was about to ask another question when Kathleen hung up.

He put his phone in his pocket and slowly walked to the front door. Jack looked up at him expectantly. "Are we still going to breakfast, Daddy?"

"Yeah, Jack, we are." Hotch reassured him. "We just have to make a stop first."

When he first pulled up to the house where Kathleen was supposed to be, he didn't see anything but a deserted sea of grass and beer cans. But then he saw a figure approach—a disheveled and dirty Kathleen. Her dress had been torn, and both of her shoes were in her hands rather than on her feet. The young agent's pale legs were scratched, but the cuts weren't oozing any blood. She climbed into the passenger's seat and stared blankly forward. Hotch didn't quite know what to say, especially with his son in the backseat.

"We're on our way to breakfast," Hotch said gently. "Do you want to go to your house to change and come with us?"

Kathleen gave a small nod, her eyes still glued on some invisible entity in front of her. With a knot in his stomach, Hotchner pulled out of the driveway and headed back into town.

Kathleen headed into her house as Hotch and Jack waited. She seemed to be taking a long time—they'd been sitting in the car for almost half an hour. Jack was beginning to whine about his hunger, Hotch decided to investigate. He exited the car, bringing Jack with him up until they entered the foyer of her house. This place wasn't new to Hotch, since he'd driven Kathleen to and from work a couple of times.

"Stay here," Hotch ordered him. "I'll go find her. Then we'll go out to eat."

"Okay," Jack was sounding grouchy, but sat down beside Kathleen's front door. Hotch went up the stairs and looked around for her room. He heard a moaning sound coming from the bathroom.

"Kathleen?" He knocked lightly on the door. As soon as he did, a huge crash sounded from the other side. He heard the girl curse before she unlocked the door. When it was open, she stood herself a good distance away from her boss, and seemed to look around him, into the hallway.

"Are you almost ready to go?" he asked.

She closed her eyes and nodded. Kathleen was already cleaned off and dressed, but she'd apparently been throwing up in the toilet, as Hotch saw. She flushed down her vomit and led Hotch down the stairs. As she descended, she went at a snail-like pace. Hotchner noticed that her legs were shaking.

The car ride was silent. Hotch was confused, Kathleen was fixated on whatever happened to her, and Jack was grumpy because he hadn't had breakfast and it was almost eleven o'clock. They pulled in to a small diner, which was almost empty. The three were seated in a booth, with Kathleen and Jack across from Hotch. Jack ordered pancakes and hot chocolate, Hotchner ordered toast and coffee, and Kathleen just ordered water and scrambled eggs. Hotch drank his caffeinated beverage and watched as Jack consumed his pancakes ravenously. Kathleen, on the other hand, only pecked at her food; she'd taken about five small sips of her water and three bites of her eggs before finally giving up. Their breakfast seemed a bit less tense than the car ride, though, because Jack was talkative and perky. Once he had food in his system, he was an bubbly, unstoppable force; until he got hungry again, of course.

Hotch brought Kathleen back to his house. Jack was having a friend over that afternoon, so when young Toby Marsters was dropped off, Hotch set up the two boys in the living room and had Kathleen follow him to the kitchen. He left the door open just a crack to make sure the children didn't start fighting before he took a seat at the table. Kathleen was in the chair at the other end, staring off into the distance. Aaron sat quietly, examining her. Her hair was not properly brushed, and she hadn't removed her make-up from the night before. She also looked different, but Hotchner realized that it was because he'd never seen her in everyday clothes. Her lips were dry, and her eyes dull.

"I don't know what happened," she finally spoke.

"Where can you start?" Hotch urged her.

"I think I'm hurt," she whispered.

Hotch leaned forward. "What's hurting, Kathleen?"

She stared down at the scratches in the wooden table. "My head. My stomach. My chest. My whole body, actually."

This alarmed Hotch. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" he questioned louder than he'd intended. The children hadn't heard him, though, because Hotch picked up the sound of them destroying their LEGO creations.

Kathleen shook her head, her golden hair swaying about.

"Look, Kathleen. I know we really don't know each other personally, but I'm worried about you. Please, just tell me what you know." Exasperated, Hotch rose from his seat and leaned on the table. "What happened last night?"

Agent Davis, though somewhat intimidated by his stance, managed to choke out an answer in a voice weaker than a mouse's. "I think that I was raped."


	3. The News

**A/N: Thanks for the favorites and follows on this story! I'm hoping to finish it before January, but who knows when I'll get around to it? I've got school. I have an education to complete! Anyways, enjoy and feel free to comment.**

PART THREE: The News

"_Rape is a more heinous crime than murder since the rape victim dies throughout the period she lives."_

_~Amit Abraham_

"What?" Hotch mentally slapped himself in the face. He'd known what had happened, but hadn't wanted to say anything in front of his son. Now, he sounded like an idiot. "Kathleen, do you know who it was?"

"Yes… I mean, maybe… but it couldn't have been him," Kathleen murmured. "At least, not the 'him' that I know. It was a different person completely."

Confused by her rambling, Hotch walked over and grabbed her shoulders. In response, Agent Davis jerked backwards with a squeak of terror, falling out of the chair and onto the floor. Hotch reached down to help her up, but she slapped his hand away.

"Don't… Don't touch me," she sputtered as she pulled herself up off the ground. Seeing her boss' shocked face, she sighed and collapsed back into the chair. "I'm sorry."

Hotch returned to his own seat, trying to calm himself down. His hand stung where Kathleen had smacked him. Rubbing it to calm the nerves, he asked, "What exactly happened last night? Kathleen, the only way I can help you is if you tell me. I want to do whatever I can, but I need to know who's responsible for this. Just close your eyes, take a deep breath, and talk about it. Trust me, you'll feel better."

She did exactly as he asked up until she passed out in Zeke's arms. Then, she muttered, "Oh, God," and tears streamed down her face.

"It's okay," Hotch reassured her. "You don't have to tell me about it. So his name is Zeke?"

Kathleen nodded. "Ezekiel Carey."

Hotchner rose from his chair and made a beeline for the phone. He yanked it out of its stand and dialed 911.

Kathleen stood up as well, but her feet were planted firmly beside the table so that she did not approach him. "Who are you calling?"

The phone began to ring, so Hotch quickly replied, "the police."

The young agent watched wide-eyed as her boss told the police to be on the lookout for a man named Ezekiel Carey. He used Kathleen's description of him and warned that he had raped a woman by slipping a roofie into her drink. Aaron noticed that Kathleen looked away when he mentioned the rape. When he hung up, he locked eyes with the victim.

"Kathleen," he began gently. "The police would like to talk with you about what happened."

"But you just told them!" Kathleen protested. "What more do they need to know?"

"They need your clothes from that night, the address of the crime scene—" Kathleen glared at him, but Hotch recovered. "—Erm, location, I meant, and they need to know what happened."

She began to pace around the kitchen. "No, no, no, I can't do this."

"You can only tell them as much as you're emotionally able," Hotch tried to reason with her. "They won't push you around."

"I can't say anything!" Kathleen hissed. "When I try to say something about it, it's like my throat's a desert, or something. It gets all dry and I—"

"Daddy!" Jack and Toby burst through the kitchen door, rendering Kathleen silent. Hotch was about to scold Jack, but realized that his son had no idea what was going on.

"Yes, Jack?" Hotch leaned down to talk to him.

"Can we have lunch now? We're hungry!"

Aaron smiled. "Okay, buddy. What do you two want?"

About ten minutes later the young boys were drinking milk and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and applesauce. Kathleen refused to eat anything at first, but Hotchner heard her stomach growl. Eventually he persuaded her to have an apple.

"We also need to go to the hospital," Hotch told her under his breath so the boys wouldn't hear him. "I'm thinking of dropping off the boys at Toby's house. His mom said that she's home in case I get paged for work."

Kathleen looked away, putting the half-eaten apple on the counted she was propped up against.

When the boys finished their lunches, Hotch herded everyone into the car and drove the boys back to Toby's house. He waved them goodbye and explained to the mother that he had unexpected business to take care of. Toby's mother saw Kathleen in the passenger's seat and asked who she was.

"A coworker," Hotch told her before saying he'd pick Jack up at four-thirty. After a quick goodbye, he pulled out of the driveway and headed for Kathleen's house.

"Collect everything that you had from last night," he reminded her as she climbed out of the car and walked up to the house.

Hotchner seemed to be having déjà vu—Kathleen was, as she had been earlier, taking forever in her house. Once again worried, Aaron headed up the walkway and entered Kathleen's home, searching upstairs for her. This time, she was seated on her bed, staring down at the tattered dress that she held in her quivering hands. Aaron knocked as lightly as he could manage, but Agent Davis still jumped in astonishment.

"What? What's wrong?" she asked, clearly panicking.

"Nothing, don't worry!" Hotch told her, shaking his hands. "I was just making sure you were okay. You've been up here for a while, you know."

She tightened her grip on the dress and closed her eyes, struggling to calm down. "Okay," she eventually spoke. "Let's just go."

They suffered through yet another car ride during which no one spoke. The only sound that either of them was aware of was the air whistling past the car as they zoomed down to the police station. Once there, Kathleen handed over her clothes and purse, which a man named Officer Wilbur took for inspection. Hotch was ordered to wait in the lobby while Kathleen was taken in for questioning. Officer Mazie Gilmont offered him a cup of coffee, which he accepted graciously. The two conversed about Kathleen for a while.

"Police are out searching for Mr. Carey's car," Officer Gilmont said. "It's a green pick-up, so we're hoping they can find it before Mr. Carey leaves town. He's a child psychologist from Boston, so he may have decided to head back there."

"I hope you can catch him," Hotch replied. "Rape is a serious crime."

"Indeed it is," Officer Gilmont agreed.

Just then, Officer Wilbur hurried over to the two with a file in his hands. "They just found Ezekiel Carey's truck. It's completely destroyed."

Officer Gilmont jumped up. "Where is it?"

"Just off Interstate 95," he told her.


	4. The Worst-Case Scenario

**A/N: Once again, thanks for the favorites and follows, guys! I'm trying to upload this at intervals. Currently I'm just about finished with Part 5. There should be 10 parts to this story, but I may add one or two just to extend the text. I really hope you enjoy. And as always, feel free to live a comment or critique for me! Just no flaming, please! ~Starsy**

PART FOUR: The Worst-Case Scenario

"_Rape is a crime against sleep and memory; it's after image imprints itself like an irreversible negative from the camera obscure of dreams. Though their bodies would heal, their souls had sustained a damage beyond compensation"_

_~Pat Conroy_

Kathleen was dismissed from her interview with orders to go straight to Sentara Northern Virginia Medical Center. She was trying to mask her displeasure with what she had to go through, but Hotchner noticed it.

"They're just trying to help you," he told her. "You realize that, right?"

Kathleen's head was leaned against the window, her eyes glazed over. "Then why do I feel like they're trying to rip everything out of me?"

Hotchner chose his next words carefully. "They've never gone through an experience even close to this, and neither have I; we can only understand what you tell us, and even then we struggle to comprehend it."

"Clearly those police officers will never understand," Kathleen spat. "They don't care about anyone they talk to. They're only in the department to earn money. Everyone they're 'helping' is just an expendable stink bug to them. It will never matter what happens to anyone, as long as those rats are getting paid."

Aaron was surprised by her anger towards the people trying to locate and cuff her rapist, but he didn't say anything. He remembered from past cases that victims of rape reacted in different ways emotionally—some were reserved and silent, suffering from terrible shock, while others became a hurricane of fury. Kathleen seemed to be the latter.

"Stop that," she scolded Hotch.

He blinked and turned towards her. "Excuse me?"

"I can tell what you're doing." She growled. "It's the same thing the police officers did. So, Hotch, just do me a favor: instead of treating me like a victim from a crime scene, treat me like an actual person."

"Who said I was ever treating you like a victim?" Hotchner questioned, offended by her comment.

"I did, because I know it's true!" Kathleen retorted sharply. "So stop, because I'm a human being and deserve better than that."

Aaron couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You think that you've earned some special treatment just because of what happened?"

"I deserve to be more than a statistic," Kathleen yelled.

Hotch, red in the face, was fed up with Kathleen's attitude. She was acting less like a victim and more like a brat. "And what about me?" his voice boomed around the car. "What have I given up to help you? One day out of many months, meant to spend with my son and his friend, and I've spent it dealing with _you_. How does it feel to know that you've been completely uncooperative when I've sacrificed so much in just one day for you? I buy you breakfast and make you lunch, I use up gas driving you to the police department and now the hospital, and I send my son off to his friend's house, ruining my afternoon with them, just so that I can help you. And how do you repay me? You sit on your ass and complain about how everyone is being so terrible to you, when in reality they're doing their best to catch Zeke and bring him to justice! So stop complaining and help us to help you!"

Kathleen stared at him in horror throughout his rant, shocked that he was holding all of those emotions in. When he'd finished, she felt like crying, but no tears would come. With dry eyes and a scratchy voice, she murmured, "I guess it's a good thing."

"What?" Hotch asked harshly. As he processed what Kathleen had said, his voice softened in confusion. "Wait, what?"

"It's a good thing I was dumb enough to trust him," she admitted. "It pointed out all of my flaws. It displayed them on a billboard for everyone to see: 'Kathleen the Brat,' 'Kathleen the Ungrateful,' 'Kathleen the Self-Centered Attention Whore,' I can see my name in neon lights, but for all the wrong reasons. I was dumb enough to follow him out…" her voice faded as it always did when she tried to talk about the rape itself.

The fiery intensity in Aaron's cheeks dissipated quickly as he realized how cruel his words had been. "Kathleen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it—"

"Just because you didn't mean it doesn't mean it's true," Kathleen sighed. "I'll cooperate from now on. I promise."

"And I won't treat you like just another Jane Doe," Hotchner reconciled. "You're my agent and my responsibility, so I'll take care of you."

He saw Kathleen blush as she turned away, embarrassed by his words. But Hotchner knew that they meant a lot to her.

At the hospital, the doctor had Kathleen give him a urine sample and then proceeded with STD tests. To Hotch's relief, the doctor said it was doubtful that she'd contracted any. Kathleen was still unable to tell the story of the assault, but the doctor was polite and didn't push her. They finally told Hotch exactly what her injuries were.

"She had some vaginal tearing, and there were scratches all up her legs. She was able to tell us that she was in the woods, so we believe that the scratches came from the scene of the crime." The doctor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and examined Aaron. "Pardon my asking, but how are you related to her?"

"I'm her boss," he replied. "The rape happened last night, and she called me to pick her up this morning."

"Ah, I see." The doctor went to fetch Kathleen and sent the two on their way, promising that the STD test results would come in less than a week. In the car Hotchner's phone rang. Since he was driving, he had Kathleen pick it up.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hello, is this Agent Hotchner?" asked the man on the other end.

"Uh, no, but I'm with him. This is Agent Davis."

"Ah, Agent Davis. This is Officer Wilbur, from down at the police station? We've done a full sweep of Zeke's truck and the area it was found in."

He was probably waiting for Kathleen to pester him about what was there, but she was too nervous to say anything, so he cleared his throat and continued.

"Well, Agent Davis, we've run into some sort of problem."

Her eyes shot wide open in fear. Hotch made her turn the phone on speaker. "What's going on?" Hotchner asked.

"Agent Hotchner, it's you!" Officer Wilbur exclaimed. "Oh, sorry, the truck… Uh, we have a positive license plate match for the truck, which is good. But there's some bad news."

"What exactly is that?" Hotch asked. Kathleen was pale and trembling violently.

"Well, Agent, how do I put this… We found the car, but it appears that Zeke is nowhere to be found. We think that he's… on the run."


	5. The Fear

**A/N: This one is super long compared to the other chapters! Anyways, enjoy! There's at least five parts left to go **** Read, review, favorite, and follow! **

PART FIVE: The Fear

"_Now, should we treat women as independent agents, responsible for themselves? Of course. But being responsible has nothing to do with being raped. Women don't get raped because they were drinking or took drugs. Women do not get raped because they weren't careful enough. Women get raped because__someone raped them._"

_~Jessica Valenti_

Three long weeks had passed since Aaron and Kathleen had found out about Zeke being missing. There was no news from the police about him at all, but it'd been so long that the two seemed to not care anymore.

"He's gone," Kathleen had told Hotchner twelve days after the fact. "I guess it's safe now. I mean, he would have come back. I may not know him as well as I thought I had, but believe me: he isn't coming back."

Hotchner did trust her. After her pregnancy and STD tests came back negative, Agent Davis seemed to have less weighing her down. The rest of the team was unaware of what happened, so they didn't notice much of a change in her personality.

The office was lacking in cases, so the BAU was stuck doing old paperwork. They usually worked at a long table, conversing while they filled out the files. JJ would scold Morgan for secretly slipping his work into Reid's pile when the young genius was not paying attention, while Blake and Rossi would exchange tales of traveling and field work from their past. Hotchner always sat across from Kathleen and would watch her intently as she scribbled words in her somewhat messy handwriting. This is how every day went for quite a few days, and the team seemed to bond more because of it. Garcia was the only one who did not spend much time with them—the techie was busy working cases with other departments, typing away noisily on her keyboard. Even then, she would always hang out with the BAU during her lunch break or during intervals when she waited for a test to finish running.

Occasionally after work, Aaron would try to invite Kathleen over for dinner and to be a playmate with him and Jack. At first she declined, stating that she was going out with Megan for the evening. Hotch eventually found out she was lying, and Kathleen actually spent her evenings watching Hitchcock movies or playing X-Box in her pajamas, so he began to insist that she come over while they were on the elevator.

"You shouldn't just be sitting around in your house," he told her. "That's very anti-social."

"I like playing X-Box though," Kathleen argued. "What's wrong with me wanting to have some me time?"

"You're locked up in your house without anyone to be with." Hotchner pointed out. "Doesn't that ever get lonely?"

"Solitude is a beautiful thing, Hotch," Kathleen said.

"I understand that," he responded. "But never the less I think you should come over. Jack would like to see you."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Me? Jack wants to see me?"

"Yes. He enjoyed your company at breakfast last month and wants you to come over for dinner and a movie."

The elevator door opened and he stepped out. "But, I'll understand if you say no. I guess I can just tell him that you want to be alone…"

Kathleen bit her lip, hesitating for a moment, and then flung herself out of the elevator, hot on Aaron's trail. "Oh, fine! I'll stay for a bit. I just want to get back to my Hitchcock sometime! I was going to watch _Marnie _tonight. I've never seen that one before."

"You sure are more talkative nowadays," Hotch observed as they entered the parking lot. Kathleen pulled out her keys and shrugged.

"It keeps my mouth busy and my mind off of… other things…" she coughed and headed in the opposite direction of Hotch, to her own car. Over her shoulder she called out, "I'll just follow you there."

Without a verbal reply, her boss headed for his own vehicle and started it up. As he drove, he continually checked in his rearview mirror, making sure that Kathleen hadn't ditched him last-minute. Luckily he always caught a glimpse of her dark blue car. When they finally pulled up to Hotchner's house, the light inside was on and figures moved about in the windows. Kathleen was confused, so Hotch explained that it was his late wife's sister with Jack.

Jack flung himself upon his father when the two entered the home. "Hi Daddy! You brought Katty!"

"He's convinced your name is 'Katty,'" Hotch murmured. "Not sure exactly why, but he doesn't seem to want to change his ways."

"That's okay," she replied. "Hi Jack, how are you?"

"I'm so happy you're here!" he bounced up and down in his excitement.

"Jack's been waiting for you two all evening," the older woman laughed. "I'm Jessica, by the way. It's nice to meet you, Kathleen."

"Nice to meet you, too," Kathleen shook her hand.

"Hey Jack," Jessica bent over to talk to him, "Let's make the popcorn now that they're here. I'll let you press the buttons on the microwave this time!"

"While you're at it, grab some sodas." Hotchner instructed the two.

"Okay!" Jack headed into the kitchen with Jessica to fetch the popcorn and sodas, leaving Aaron and Kathleen alone.

"Why does Jack want me to be here?" Kathleen asked as innocently as she could.

Hotchner shrugged. "I don't know. He's a friendly kid, so he probably wants to get to know you. They'll be back in a minute, so can you tell them that I'm changing? I want to get out of this suit."

"Sure," she watched as he left the room to go upstairs. Almost immediately after he headed out, Jessica and Jack returned with two bowls of popcorn and cans of soda. Jessica motioned to Kathleen with her head.

"Kick off your shoes," she smiled. "You're staying for the movie, aren't you?"

Kathleen removed her coat and shoes, revealing her dress clothes. Jessica set down the food on the coffee table before asking, "Do you want to switch into something more comfortable?"

"Oh, I don't have any clothes with me," Kathleen explained.

"I know," Jessica said. "I've got some old clothes upstairs; if you want them you can keep them, too. They don't fit me anymore."

"Uh, okay, thank you." Kathleen received directions to the room and abandoned Hotch's family. On her way upstairs she passed Hotch. After telling him where she was going, he replied that they'd wait until she was back before starting the movie. Kathleen continued on, following Jessica's instructions until she passed through a doorway into what she guessed was a guest room. Bags of clothes were stacked up along the cream-colored wall. Searching inside of them led to the discovery of navy blue sweatpants and a long-sleeved white shirt. After a quick wardrobe change, Kathleen felt much more comfortable. She folded her work attire and laid it on the bed before exiting the room.

Back downstairs, the other three were munching on popcorn and laughing. Jessica, who was by herself in a plush chair, glanced over at Kathleen. "Better, am I right? And remember, you can keep those. They don't fit me anymore."

"Yeah, thanks," Kathleen sat on the couch next to Jack, who grinned up at her with his tiny teeth.

"Why are you wearing Aunt Jessie's clothes?" he questioned.

"Your aunt gave them to me," Kathleen told him. "It was very nice of her."

Hotch stood next to the open DVD player and looked around, puzzled. "Jack, where's the movie?"

"It's in the kitchen," Jack replied. "I can go get it!"

"No, that's okay, I can find it. I'll be right back." Hotch went into the kitchen. As soon as he was gone, Kathleen turned to Jack.

"Thanks for inviting me, Jack," she began. "That was kind of you."

"Yeah, Daddy really wanted you here, too."

Kathleen arched an eyebrow. "Oh, did he now? Did he convince you to act super excited when I came in?"

"Daddy said I'm not allowed to answer that."

Jessica giggled quietly while Kathleen rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought."

"Found it!" Hotch announced, carrying the DVD case. "Though what it was doing on top of the fridge, I can't quite figure out."

"It was Jack's idea," Jessica smirked.

"But you probably put it up there for him," Hotch argued gently.

Jessica's hands shot up in mock surrender. "Hey, you don't have any evidence to support that!"

"Let's start the movie!" Jack interrupted, hopping off of the couch to insert the disc into the player.

"What movie?" Kathleen asked.

"_Cars_," Hotch did a double-take when he saw the title. "_Cars_? Jack, haven't you seen this movie already?"

"Just about five times," Jessica piped in.

"It's my favorite!" Jack replied ecstatically as he returned to his seat.

In the end, Kathleen was happy that she'd come to Hotch's house—though at first she'd been sour and skeptical, she enjoyed being around pleasant company again. The movie was funny and cute, the people around her were kind, and Kathleen was content. When the movie was over, Jack and Jessica said their goodbyes.

"Jack has school tomorrow," Jessica explained. "He shouldn't stay out too long.

"Bye, Katty!" Jack waved. "Bye, Daddy! Oh Daddy by the way I didn't tell her anything! Aren't you proud of me?"

Hotch's smile was clearly faked after his son's last statement. "Alright, buddy, see you soon!"

The moment the door closed, Kathleen leaned back on the couch. "So, you really wanted me here tonight, huh?"

"I'm just looking out for you," Hotchner took a seat in his recliner.

"I know, I know," Kathleen waved him off.

He eyed her quietly for a bit. "You seem to be adjusting well."

She took a sip of her soda. "I've read some terrible stories about others who have taken over a year to cope. I don't want to be one of them."

"But you're still hurting. Don't look so surprised, Kathleen; have you forgotten that I'm a profiler? I can read most anyone."

"Sometimes I hate our job," Kathleen grumbled, but Hotch knew that she was only kidding.

"This is a natural phase for anyone who's gone through an assault," Aaron assured her. "If it's difficult for you—"

"It isn't hard!" Kathleen hollered. A little more quietly she added, "I'm perfectly content right now."

"On the outside," Hotch said. "What about on the inside?"

Kathleen looked in the distance as she pondered his words, but seemed to push away her thoughts and fell silent.

"Don't try to climb out of a pit without a rope," Hotch advised her, "because you're probably going to fall."

Sometime later Kathleen awoke with a start. She was sweaty from her nightmare, and because of the perspiration her shirt stuck to her back like they had been glued together. After adjusting to her overheated body and looking around, she realized that she wasn't in Hotch's living room anymore. The room in which she had awoken was dark and unfamiliar. She was in a cool bed, and thunder rolled outside. The windows were splattered with raindrops. As lightning flashed, she thought she saw a figure in the corner of the room. An image of who it could be flashed into her mind and Kathleen let out a high-pitched scream. Seconds later, footsteps pounded outside of her door, quickly heading towards her location, and Hotch burst into the room.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his gun pointed forward as he scanned the corners of the room. The lightning flashed again and this time Kathleen realized that she'd only seen a floor lamp.

"What—I—But—Nothing… Hotch, what's going on?"

The ferocity in his voice diminished, swallowed up by his concern. "You fell asleep on the couch last night, so I brought you upstairs. You're in the guest room right now."

Kathleen looked around and saw the bags of clothing against the wall to her left, along with her work clothes from the day prior. She exhaled and fell back on the bed.

"Why did you scream?" Hotch put his gun on the dresser and leaned against the wall.

"I woke up and didn't know where I was," she admitted. "I thought I'd been kidnapped or something. The lamp over there looked like a person when the lightning flashed."

Aaron turned on the light she'd mentioned, bathing the room in a warm yellow glow. Kathleen's face was red and moist.

"Is something else the matter? You look terribly shaken."

"I had a dream," she murmured.

"About Zeke?" Hotch guessed. Kathleen gave the slightest nod in reply. "What happened in the dream?"

"I was in some sort of hedge maze," she began, "but the walls seemed to go up infinitely. There wasn't an exit behind me, so I must have been in the middle of it. It was so foggy; I could barely see anything a yard in front of me. But then I started hearing footsteps behind me. Whenever I looked back, I couldn't see anything. But then, I saw a pair of shoes. I knew them because they were the ones Zeke had been wearing when… he… Um, well he was following me through the maze. He never ran, even though I did. Even so, he was always ten steps behind me. I ran straight into a dead-end, and he advanced on me. He reached out to grab me and…"

"…And?" Hotch urged her to continue.

She stared him straight in the eyes. "And then I woke up."

Hotch wasn't exactly sure what to say to this. Kathleen had been so light-hearted the previous evening, but now, at two in the morning, she was a nervous wreck. Her eyes were red, and she looked to be on the verge of tears. Aaron finally knelt down so that he was at her eye level.

"Moving on from this is going to take time," Hotchner told her quietly. "It's going to be hard, and you need to be able to accept that. I'm going to do all I can to help you overcome this, okay?"

"Hotch," her lips quivered. "I lied to you earlier about being content. I lied to both of us, actually. I thought I was fine, but it hurts so badly. I can't stand it anymore. It makes me wish I'd never been born! I'm scared, Hotch. Please, help me."

She fell upon him with a hug, which shocked Hotchner. He had thought she would be more hesitant to share a close moment with another person after what happened to her, but instead a close moment was what she needed the most.

Hotchner patted her back reassuringly. "You can't force yourself to be happy," he told her. "Heaven knows I've tried."


	6. The Case

PART 6: The Case

"_You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past."_

_~ Chuck Palahniuk_

About a month had passed since that night at Hotch's house. The team had solved a few cases, and Kathleen seemed a bit more at-ease. Hotch was the only team member who knew about what happened to her—Agent Davis made it very clear that she didn't want the other team members to know about it. Staying true to his word, Aaron did not reveal anything.

It was December, and snow was starting to fall earlier than it had the previous year. On her way out the door to work one day, Kathleen stood still on the path that connected her house to the sidewalk. She turned her face up to the sky, letting snowflakes land on her cheeks and melt in the warmth of her body head. After that brief reflection, she lowered her head and made her way to her car.

Across the street, she noticed a figure standing completely still on the sidewalk. She took a closer look, wondering if it was the old man who lived in the house on the other side of the street. When her eyes focused on the person, she gasped. It looked exactly like Zeke, right down to the messy blonde hair and close-together eyes. But a car passed, and when it flashed by, he vanished.

Kathleen was frozen to the ground—was that a hallucination? It had to have been. After two months, there was no way Zeke would have come back for her. Shrugging off the vision as best as she could, Kathleen got into her car and headed to the office.

The team had been called in, as Garcia explained when they'd all arrived, to investigate a series of murders in the suburbs of Boston. The pretty faces of three brunette women were shown on the screen—Mandy Karl, 23; Cynthia Wells, 35; and Amanda Reeler, 29; they had all been the victims of a serial rapist, who dumped their bodies in the woods outside of the suburbs. Out of the corner of her eye, Kathleen saw Hotchner give her a strange look when Garcia mentioned the rape. However, Kathleen kept her face as emotionless as possible, and Hotch eventually turned away.

"Alright team, wheels up in thirty," Hotch announced, and the others gathered their folders and left the room.

Hotchner kept Kathleen behind for a brief moment.

"Are you okay with working this case?" concern was evident in his voice.

She nodded. "I'm alright with this one, yeah."

Aaron seemed ready to add a comment, but he simply shook his head. "Okay. Let's go."

On the plane, JJ put Garcia on videochat. The blonde-haired techno whiz had a huge fuschia bow on and bright pink lipstick.

"So this killer raped these women very forcefully." Garcia clicked away at her keyboard. The sound abruptly halted when she clicked on a picture from the computer file of the investigation. "Ew, they really didn't need to photograph that. I'll need to down a few to get that off my mind."

"If all of the women are brunettes, that implies that they represent someone who wronged the Unsub." JJ began.

"Perhaps a girlfriend who didn't want to have sexual relations with him," Blake added.

Rossi nodded. "Garcia, did any of the victims have anything else in common besides their hair color?"

"Eine Minute, meine Freunden," Penelope said with a perfect German accent. "Aaaand… Each of them owned a dog from the Animal Rescue League of Boston. I'm sending the address to your devices as we speak."

"Alright… Once we land, JJ and Blake will go to the latest crime scene. Morgan and Rossi will head down to the police station, and I'll take Reid and Kathleen to visit the Animal Rescue League." Hotch eyed each of them in turn.

Back on land, Kathleen got into the van with Reid and Hotch and the trio headed for the shelter.

"Our Unsub isn't patient, but he's smart," Reid observed as he flipped through the case notes. "He successfully raped and murdered three women in different parts of town in a time period of only a week."

"He's on a rampage," Kathleen said.

Hotch turned into the parking lot of the shelter. "And it's only a matter of time before he strikes again."

Inside the shelter, a petite woman with brown hair greeted the three. "How can I help you today?"

"We're with the FBI," Hotchner explained. "Can we ask you a few questions?"

"Uh… sure," the woman looked confused, but she invited the three to sit with her in the back room. When Hotch asked about the three victims, a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Mandy was my best friend," she explained quietly. "We grew up together outside of Boston. Our families have been close for years. She came by to help out around the shelter at least once a week."

"We're going to need to see a list of all of your employees," Hotchner stood up, ready to leave.

"Of course," she sniffed. "Let me go get it."

They thanked her for her time and headed out to the police station. There, the rest of the team was waiting for them.

"We'll have to sort through this list of employees. I'll send the names to Garcia so that she can run background checks," Hotchner pulled out his phone to talk to the techie.

Kathleen spent the afternoon reading about the woman they'd spoken with—her name was Laurie Hoptin, and she seemed to be a well-rounded person. Laurie was the front desk worker at the shelter, but she also volunteered and multiple community events such as school plays and musicals, the annual fair, and parades. Every employee at the shelter had good backgrounds, as Garcia told them. The team wasn't sure how to proceed, since they didn't have a good enough profile set up. It was late, so the team decided to go to the hotel and pick it up in the morning.

Early the next morning they were called by an older police man named Officer Whitebury.

"Got some bad news," he said. "They've found another body near the woods."

The Unsub had slipped right under their noses—a brown-haired body was hastily dumped at the tree line, her hair spread out over her face.

Rossi put on a glove and brushed away her locks, revealing that the deceased was none other than Laurie Hoptin. She'd been beaten up pretty badly, as shown by her bruised face and scratched-up arms and legs.

Hotchner noticed that Kathleen looked a bit spooked, so after they arrived back to the police station, he took her aside.

"Something's bothering you, Agent Davis," he whispered. "What is it?"

"I… It sounds stupid, and if I say it you'll send me home," Kathleen turned away.

Hotch's eyebrows arched. "It's about Zeke, I take it?"

"This is eerily similar to what happened to me," Kathleen admitted. "I mean, minus the dying part."

"Kathleen," Hotch began to say.

"Hotch, look at me and listen," Kathleen snapped. "I'm a brunette who grew up in Boston. I was raped and left in the woods. When I was a kid, we had a dog from that very shelter. It's almost uncanny, Hotch!"

"Yes, but what about Zeke? He isn't employed at that shelter," Aaron pointed out.

"You're right," Kathleen looked ready to admit defeat. But suddenly, her eyes brightened. "He's not employed there, Hotch… But what if he volunteers there? Laurie told us that Mandy helped out there once a week. What if Zeke did as well?"

"Let's head down there right now and find out," Hotch suggested. "They might have a list of volunteers."

The two went by themselves, driving a bit over the speed limit to their destination. The two let themselves inside.

A new person was manning the desk. He was black-haired and had a loner vibe emanating from his body. He didn't notice their arrival—music blared from his oversized headphones.

Hotchner got his attention and flashed his badge. "I'm Agent Hotchner with the FBI, and this is Agent Davis. We're investigating the recent murders here. Do you have a list of volunteers at the shelter?"

"Sure," he smirked at Kathleen. "I'll get it for the pretty lady over here. You won't see my name in there, though."

He handed her the book and whispered, "You'll know it by the end of the night, babe."

"You're a pig," Kathleen spat out, disgusted by his proposal.

The two glanced through the pages until they saw it—Zeke's name.

"He was here just this past week," Kathleen gasped.

"That means that he made it back to Boston somehow between November and now," Hotchner said.

Kathleen slapped her hand to her mouth. "Oh my God,"

"What is it?" Hotchner asked.

Wide-eyed, she answered, "Hotch… What if he's killing these girls because they remind him of me?"


	7. The Missing

**A/N: Guess I've got a bit of explaining to do, huh? I've been busy over weekends with multiple events (music-related, but time consuming nonetheless) so all writing had to be put on hold while I made up for schoolwork. But, as you can see, I'm back in action! This chapters rather short (aka not even 1,000 words). However, there really wasn't a lot to work with- there wasn't enough for a long chapter, but at the same time too much to tack onto another chapter. So, enjoy, and keep your eyes peeled for parts 8, 9, and 10, coming soon to a fanfiction account near you! :D**

PART 7: The Missing

"_You can't keep hiding behind your masks of glass. Because eventually, you're just going to either shatter or completely crack."_

_~Francine Chiar _

Kathleen's throat was drier than the Rub' al Khali—every time she tried to take a breath, it felt like a million pins and needles were stabbing the back of her mouth. She kept drinking water, but it didn't do anything to ease the pain. The agent popped a throat lozenge into her mouth and did her best to ignore the irritation while Hotch explained who the Unsub was. He mentioned Zeke's involvement with Kathleen's life in high school, but did not reveal anything about the recent events that had transpired.

"He's dangerous," Hotch explained carefully. "Any young woman with brown hair is at risk. Zeke is kidnapping, raping, and murdering them because of their resemblance to Kathleen."

"Probably some unreleased sexual tension," Reid noted. "Kathleen, did you two ever have sex in high school?"

"Reid, you can't just ask someone that!" Garcia shrieked from Morgan's phone.

Kathleen numbly shook her head "no," unable to form words. She felt so embarrassed, that she thought for the first time that maybe this was all just a dream.

"Garcia, pull up his address," Hotch ordered.

"Already on it," she replied. "It's being sent to your phones as we speak."

Their phones lit up simultaneously, and they grabbed their coats as they headed for the cars.

"Round up some police," Hotch told Rossi. "We don't know how this is going to turn out."

With a nod, the salt-and-pepper-haired agent began to gather a group of officers. Kathleen hopped into Hotch's car, seated between Morgan and Reid. Their body heat made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Hotch, is it a good idea to bring Kathleen?" Morgan asked as they zoomed through the streets of Boston. "After all, she _is_ the source of his anger."

"I'm sitting right next to you," Kathleen thought to herself. "Don't act like I'm not here."

Hotchner glanced at Derek from the rearview mirror. "Just as easily, Kathleen could talk him down from killing anyone else. She could be used to get him in cuffs."

Kathleen's eyes shot open and she glared at Aaron, her blue eyes ablaze. How could he think she was capable of confronting Zeke, after what had happened?

Then, she realized that Hotchner was probably trying to make Kathleen look stronger. She sat up straighter and let her mind cool off. It wouldn't come to a confrontation—it couldn't.

The house looked exactly as it had ten years prior, Kathleen observed. From the second-story balcony to the red geraniums planted in little pots out front.

"He never moved out," she told the team. "His family could be inside."

"Then we'll proceed with caution," Hotchner assured her as the other agents arrived. "We'll take the front. Blake, Rossi, and JJ, you take the back."

They fanned out, Kathleen struggling to clutch her gun in her trembling hands. She stayed close behind Hotch, but not too close as to raise Morgan or Reid's curiosity.

Hotchner knocked at the door. "FBI, open up!" There was no response, so he repeated the action. Again, no one came to the door. He motioned to Morgan, who stepped over and kicked the door open, sending the oak form crashing into the foyer. They aimed their guns, eyes scanning the scene for signs of movement. The yellow glow from the overhead lights and lamps in adjacent rooms made it easier for them to see that there was no one there.

"Someone was here recently," Reid called over the sound of the television, which was playing _Marnie_. The room they stood in had an overturned chair and popcorn spilled everywhere. "Looks like they left in a hurry, too."

Suddenly, a scream erupted from the backyard. The four agents double-timed it out the back door, where they saw JJ on the ground. Blood pulsed from a wound on her head.

"JJ, are you okay?" Hotchner knelt down, trying to press his sleeve into JJ's injury to lessen the bleeding.

"I'm… I'm fine, it's nothing." she winced at her boss' touch.

Morgan looked around. "Where are Rossi and Blake?"

As if in response, Rossi came running towards them. Sweat pooled down his temples, and his face was as red as sunburn. "That cheeky bastard knocked JJ out and stole away with Blake."

"You mean Zeke took Blake?" the panic in Kathleen's voice was evident, but no one seemed to notice her tone. Rather, they focused on Rossi's story.

Rossi nodded, gulping for air. "I tried to chase Zeke down, but he got away in some car. I have a partial plate, a color, and a brand."

"Okay." Hotch stared at his teammates seriously. "We need to find her as soon as possible. With Zeke, we don't know how much time Blake has."

Back at the station, they phoned Garcia and Rossi relayed the information to her.

"This is fairly specific," Garcia said. "Bingo! Got a match! The car belongs to Dolores Pearl Carey, Zeke's mother. Also I've done a bit extra digging so before you even had to ask, I found out that Zeke's father rented out a storage unit. I'm sending the address to your phones right now!"

With the end of their case drawing nigh, the team rallied the police officers and hurried out to the parking lot, not sure if Blake would return as the same person they'd come to know, or if she'd even return at all.


	8. The Reunion

**A/N: I was on a roll earlier today, and managed to flesh this bad-boy out. Only two parts to go! My goal is to finish this story by the end of February. Also, be on the lookout for an NCIS one-shot, Gibblets! I'll shut up now, and let you read.**

PART EIGHT: The Reunion

"_I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."_

_~Frank Herbert_

Kathleen willed the car ride to go as slowly as possible. She silently prayed for a traffic jam or construction—anything that would delay her from seeing Zeke. If she saw him in person ever again, the agony of his eyes locking with hers would surely kill her. Agent Davis could almost feel the heat of his skin, as if he was in the backseat of the van, touching her chest and rubbing her thighs.

"Are you scared?" he whispered, licking his lips. His eyes were alight with sexual arousal. "You shouldn't be—you look so sexy right now."

Kathleen swallowed down a panic attack as it rose up from her chest. She focused all of her attention on breathing. In, out. In, out.

"Kathleen, you okay?" Morgan elbowed her, bringing her back to reality.

"A bit carsick," it was dumb of her to think that she could get away with lying in front of BAU agents. If Morgan knew something was wrong, he didn't have time to talk, because the storage space was in view.

"There are three entrances to the whole complex," JJ told the team as soon as they exited the vehicles. "All of the storage units are inside the building."

"We'll have to split up to cover the whole area," Officer Whitebury observed.

Hotch nodded. "Let's split up into three groups, one for each entrance. Remember to proceed with caution—there's an FBI agent in there, and Zeke is unpredictable in his behavior."

"Trust me, I know," Kathleen muttered, but she was not heard over the noise of police officers running past. She tagged along with Hotch as the two went to the central entrance. He kicked down the door, and headed in behind a flood of police. Kathleen pointed up her gun and flashlight around the dark hallway, but her hands were visibly shaking. Each step felt heavy and unsure, as if she was headed straight into Hell itself.

The hallway they were in branched into three hallways, so the group split down even smaller. Kathleen, still scared out of her mind, stayed close to Hotchner. They went down the central path, and had traveled for only a few slow minutes when they heard screaming. The duo readied themselves as they came across the storage room from which the screaming was coming.

"On the count of three," Hotch said.

Together they whispered, "One, two, three!" and heaved the door open. Inside, the scene before her made Kathleen sick to her stomach.

Blood covered the walls—it dripped from the ceiling, down to the once-white walls and formed thick crimson puddles on the floor. How many girls had Zeke killed again? Was all of this their blood? There was a single table in the far left corner on which a tray bearing knives rested. Along the wall opposite of them were rusty chains that restrained the helpless victim—Blake.

"Alex!" Hotchner rushed in and stared in horror at her battered, unconscious body before feeling for a pulse. He turned to Kathleen. "She's got a pulse, but it's faint. Call for medical assistance!"

She felt around her pocket for her phone. When she started to dial the number, a cool hand rested on her shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, lovely."

Kathleen dropped her phone, and Aaron aimed his gun at the person directly behind her.

"Ezekiel Carey, put down the knife."

The icy tip of the blade pushed gently against Kathleen's neck, not enough to draw blood, but enough to cause discomfort.

"She belongs to me," he pulled her tight to his body. Kathleen was completely frozen with terror, and nearly wet herself when she felt his voice rumble in his chest. "She's my love."

"Put down the knife and we can talk," Hotch's dark eyes flashed. He was lying, Kathleen thought—as soon as Zeke let her go, he would be arrested. But what if he didn't let go?

"She's mine!" Zeke screamed. "Do you hear me? We are meant to be, and you're in our way! She loves me, she wants me, and she needs me!"

The room was dead-silent after that. Kathleen suddenly felt in control of her body again, and managed to murmur, "No."

The knife left her neck. "What?" Zeke asked in surprised.

"I said no." Kathleen's voice gained some strength. The sand that had been in her dry throat was now funneling down into her lower body, and she could breathe. It didn't matter that the air around her was rotten with blood and death—she could breathe.

"But you love me!" Zeke cried, pulling her into a crushing hug.

"I don't love you." Kathleen said slowly. "I did, years ago, but you've changed. You've killed so many girls, and possibly one of my friends, and you think you can get away with it? You think that just because you've been raping girls means that I'll love you?"

"But at the party, we—"

"We what?" Kathleen's voice rose to a shrill screech. "We shared some beers, talked, and I passed out because you drugged me? I woke up alone and naked in the woods because you raped me? Do you think that would make me love you? You're a psychopath! Because of you, I nearly killed myself! Because of you, I almost thought I'd never be happy again! You've ruined my life, Zeke, and all I want is to see you dead!"

His grasp weakened, and Kathleen saw her opportunity. She tore away from his arms, whipped around, and punched him in the face. He fell over with a grunt, and Kathleen hopped onto him, punching and kicking until Hotchner dragged her off.

"I want him dead!" Kathleen cried. "I want that bastard to bleed!"

"Kathleen, calm down," Hotch's voice was so soft that at first she couldn't hear it. As the blood in her ears quieted, she pulled Hotchner into a tight embrace.

"I never wanted to see him again," she sobbed.

"I know," Hotch patted her back. "A nightmare is hard enough to get through once."

"I just want him gone," Kathleen choked out.

"I'm calling the others," he pulled out his phone and dialed for medical assistance, still clutching the crying agent in his other arm. "Just hold on, and in half an hour you'll never see him again."

She gazed up at him, wide-eyed. "Promise?"

He nodded. "I promise."


	9. The Healing, Part 1

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reading/supporting my story! Once again, this part is relatively short, but the tenth and final installment will (hopefully) be longer. I originally planned on having this story finished in January, but nothing ever goes according to plan, eh? Once again, feel free to follow, comment, favorite, or whatever you so desire! But please, no flaming. Anywho, I'll shut up and let you enjoy. :) ~Starsy**

PART NINE: The Healing, Part 1

"_It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone."_

_~Rose Kennedy_

A couple of days had gone by since Zeke had been apprehended. The BAU teammates were milling around their desks, talking about their plans for the weekend. Garcia, who was cradling a colorfully-decorated laptop in her arms, instructed that everyone had to visit Blake on Saturday night. The agent had fortunately not passed away, but still had sustained intense injuries from both sharp and blunt objects. As she recuperated at Stafford Hospital, the team eagerly awaited her return, and would visit her singularly or in pairs whenever they had the chance. However, since the team had not been able to go all at once to her hospital room, Garcia was attempting to pull together a group visit. Luckily, everyone's schedules were clear past five P.M. on Saturday. The techie had passed out a list of what everyone was to bring.

"Derek, you're in charge of balloons," Garcia dictated as she read from her lime green clipboard. "They have to be blue, her favorite color. Don't get more than five—four would be preferred.

"JJ, you are to get her a one-meter tall, beige-colored teddy bear holding a heart that says, 'Get Well Soon!'. They are half-price at Hallmark as of right now, so I suggest you get on that pronto!"

As she instructed her friends about what they were to purchase, no one was able to suppress an amused laugh. Even Garcia, who found the whole ordeal very serious, was giggling a bit.

When everyone knew what they were going to bring for Blake, Garcia bid them all goodnight and headed to the elevator so that she could go home. Slowly, one at a time, the BAU members drifted out of the office and to the comfort of their own homes, until only two agents were left.

Aaron Hotchner stood in his private office, looking out of its interior-facing window at the brown-haired agent cleaning out her desk drawer. He wondered if she was stalling to talk to him privately, or stalling so that she could avoid talking to anyone, and could leave the building alone. Curious, he descended the steps to talk with her. As he came closer, he was surprised to see that Kathleen seemed genuinely focused on throwing out old gum wrappers and scraps of paper. She glanced up, her hair covering her left eye.

"Hello, Hotch," she greeted him. "I thought you'd left already."

Her tone was not critical of his presence, so Aaron took it as a good sign. "Need a hand?" he offered.

"No, no, I'm just about finished," Kathleen grabbed a handful of old sticky notes and tossed them in the garbage can, closing the drawer and using a dollop of hand sanitizer afterwards to clean her hands. "I get kind of OCD about desk drawers and I try to clean it out once a week, but so much has been going on lately that I… well, I just didn't get around to it."

Hotch nodded in understanding. He struggled to think of what to say next. Was Kathleen up to talking about everything that had happened, or was she trying to forget about it?

"Did you need to talk to me?" Kathleen asked, her head tipped. Hotch looked into her dark blue eyes and realized that she was different—small aspects of her physical person had been altered. When she sat, her back sagged a bit, creating a turtle-shell kind of arch. Where she once wore an eternal smile now rested a tired smirk; and her eyes, which once shined with youth, were now dull and spent. Everything she'd experienced because of Zeke had caused her to mature at a shocking rate.

But, somehow, Hotch knew that it was the same Kathleen who had walked into Quantico to join the BAU a few months prior. Though she appeared different on the outside, she was almost entirely the same on the inside—loyal, respectful, and hopeful.

"Hotch? Are you okay?" she waved one hand in front of his face, and Hotchner snapped out of his trance.

"I was just coming to check on you," he said after clearing his throat.

Kathleen leaned back in her chair a bit. "Oh," her voice was quieter and smaller than in had been a moment before. "Yes, I'm feeling better."

She seemed to want to say more, but instead held her tongue. Hotch had learned that, with Kathleen, one shouldn't force words out of her mouth.

"I'm headed home," Aaron told her as he went to grab his coat. He stopped and turned to face her. "And, Kathleen, I'm always here."

The faintest of smiles appeared on her face. "I know, Hotchner. Thank you."


	10. The Healing, Part 2

**A/N: It's been a while, eh? I've been B-U-S-Y! Sorry about the delay, but I finally finished it! It's been a real whirlwind of a writing schedule for me, but I'm glad that it's done! Now I can focus on my Wattpad story and my other fanfiction, **_**Throne of Shadows**_** (it's for Fable III, which is a game I doubt any of you have played). Anyways, please enjoy! I'd tell you to stay tuned for the next part, but this is it! **

PART 10: The Healing, Part 2

"_Bad things can happen, and often do-but they only take up a few pages of your story; and anyone can survive a few pages."_

_~James A. Owen_

That night, Hotch drove through a terrible thunderstorm to get home and unwind. It was to be a fun evening, because Jack was coming over for a sleepover. The house had been cleaned, and he'd bought junk food to feed Jack (of course, he hadn't told Jessica about what they were going to be eating, because she'd go on a rant about Jack's physical health). He was just coming down the stairs after changing into jeans and a t-shirt when the doorbell rang. Aaron glanced at the clock. Jack was supposed to be coming much later. Who would be coming to his house during a downpour?

He opened the door and found himself facing Agent Davis. She didn't have an umbrella, so her hair was plastered to her face and her clothes were dark from rainwater.

"I think I need to talk," she admitted after a thunderclap, giving her voice the illusion of a mouse squeak following a lion's roar.

Kathleen was once again wearing Jessica's old clothes when she came downstairs from blow-drying her hair. She wound up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her, a warm mug of coffee in her right hand. Hotchner sat next to her and listened to Kathleen talk on and on about her feelings. There were moments when her face grew red in anger or embarrassment, but others when tears dripped into her steaming coffee. Hotch never interrupted her story; he listened intently, drinking in every word and syllable and consonant. When Kathleen's emotions overpowered her ability to speak, Hotchner patted her back reassuringly.

After an hour, he'd listened to the entire story, hearing parts that Kathleen had previously omitted. They sat quietly; the clock chimed eight in the background, and thunder clapped.

"It takes a lot of strength to tell someone all of that," Hotchner told his coworker.

"A lot of pain and emotion, too," Kathleen sighed.

Hotch glanced her over. "How do you feel now?"

"I feel… like the sand that burned my throat is starting to funnel out; I feel like a fifty-pound weight was taken from my shoulders. I feel…"

"Free?" Hotch guessed.

Kathleen drank a bit of coffee. "Yeah, something like that."

The doorbell rang for the second time that evening, causing the two of them to jump. Kathleen asked who it was.

Hotch smiled in response. "Oh, you'll see."

She followed him to the door and saw that the two people there were both excited and surprised to see her.

"Katty!" Jack launched himself from Jessica's side to hug Kathleen's legs. "You're here!"

Agent Davis ruffled Jack's blonde hair. "You're here, too! I didn't know you two were coming—I wouldn't have intruded if I'd been aware." She saw Hotch grin in her peripheral vision.

"I'm dropping off Jack for a sleepover," Jessica explained. "But if tonight isn't a good night…"

"What? Oh, no, it's fine," Hotch assured her. "Thanks for bringing him; I'm glad that we're getting to spend more time together,"

"Jack's glad, too," Jessica motioned to the excited young boy.

Hotch put his arm around Jack. "Say goodbye to Jessie, Jack,"

"Bye, Aunt Jessie!" Jack waved. Jessica wiggled her fingers back at him and put her umbrella back up before heading out to her car.

The door shut, and Jack bounced around the house like a pinball. "We should build a fort!"

Kathleen and Hotch exchanged an amused expression. Aaron instructed Kathleen to help build the fort while he got snacks for the group. As soon as he'd entered the kitchen, Kathleen managed to calm Jack down and bring him over to the couch to construct their fort. They were stacking up the couch cushions when Jack said, "I'm so happy that I can be with you and Daddy! Are you going to marry him?"

Kathleen laughed at his question. "Your dad is a bit old for me, Jack; you know, I think you're the happiest, most bubbly person I know."

"I don't like being sad," Jack told her. "It's not fun."

"You're right about that," Kathleen said as she spread a blanket over top of the cushions.

Jack's round eyes suddenly looked up at Kathleen. "Why do bad things happen to make us sad?"

Kathleen stared back at him, unable to form the words needed to respond to his question. She examined Jack's bright eyes, his light hair, his innocent face, and pure curiosity… did everyone in the world begin like him? So unaware, precious, and young? Even serial killers? Terrorists? Zeke?

"Well," she began, "I guess bad things happen because… they serve as a reminder. It's like life reminding us that happiness is a gift that comes at a great cost. I mean, happiness wouldn't exist if sadness didn't. I suppose that means that bad things happen to make us happier, rather than sadder. Most of the time, we just focus on the sadness instead of moving on to the happiness. I mean, maybe bad things aren't so bad after all."

She watched as Jack carefully thought over her words. He finally nodded, as if to silently agree with what she'd said. When Kathleen turned around to grab the pillows off of the couch, she saw Hotchner standing in the doorway of the kitchen, food cradled in his arms. He smiled at Kathleen and did the same nod as Jack just had.

And Kathleen smiled, too.


End file.
